Escaping Into Himself
by Fanatic-909
Summary: First fanfic ever so be kind :) Just a short one-shot about sick Jack and his past. Flames appreciated :) Rated T just to be safe


Their latest heist was complete, leaving the four horsemen shrouded in the darkness of an alley while the police scratched their heads, three streets over.

"What now?" Henley asked, breathing heavily.

"We split up," Daniel answered. "Two each way; we'll draw too much attention to ourselves otherwise." The control freak spoke in a matter-of-fact tone.

"Sounds good," Merritt nodded, punching Daniel's shoulder playfully. The impromptu leader gave the mentalist a quick glare before turning to the group's youngest member and resident sleight. "What do you think?"

Jack was surprisingly pale and one hand lay on his stomach. He leant against a wall, shivering slightly despite his signature leather jacket. The sleight nodded noncommittally.

Henley, maternal instinct taking over, stepped over and raised a hand to feel the boy's forehead. However, Jack jerked his head away before she could.

"Yeah. Sounds good. Who's going with who?" He asked quickly, voice strained.

Henley eyed him with concern before sighing and stepping away from him. Jack had grown up on the streets from a young age, that was all the group could get out of him. He was closed off and independent, only sharing the information he felt the group _needed _to know. Apparently, this didn't include the fact that he was allergic to seafood, they found that out after a scary dinner incident, that he was something of a maths whizz, this particular tidbit was discovered while Danny quizzed a cocky Merritt, or that he was practically the next singing prodigy, Henley found this out while she was waiting for a shower. In short, Jack preferred to live in his head, only projecting the parts of him that he couldn't get away with hiding.

"I was thinking Henley and I could go East while you and Merritt went West," Daniel answered Jack's question, oblivious to the ordeal between him and Henley.

Merritt guffawed, patting Daniel's back and squeezing his shoulder. "Yeah, okay Loverboy. Meet you guys at the safe house." With that he tugged Jack along by his jacket, the two disappearing into the darkness and leaving Daniel and Henley in an awkward silence.

As Merritt and Jack ran, Merritt became increasingly concerned about Jack. As the observant mentalist he was, he had noticed the two second interaction between the sleight and escape artist in the alley and knew that Jack was trying to hide being sick. As they ran though, Jack became slower and slower, starting to stumble every few steps.

Merritt slowed to a stop a few metres in front of Jack which, in itself, was a tell tale sign of Jack's deprecated state. Jack was usually lithe and quick as he had spent the majority of his adolescence running; running from his con victims, running from heists, running from the foster system. Merritt wasn't aware of the last one though.

"You alright, kid?" Merritt asked Jack, grasping his shoulder and steadying him. In response, the sleight shuddered violently and emptied his stomach into a nearby trashcan. Merritt sighed loudly and pinched the bridge of his nose. Why couldn't he have gone with Daniel? Henley would have dealt with this situation so much better.

"You done?" He asked Jack, who was slowly straightening, shaking like a leaf.

"Sorry," the sleight answered softly, surprising Merritt. Usually the young man was indignant and tough, trying to prove his worth to the older and consequently more arrogant magicians in the group.

"Hey, it's okay. Let's just- let's just get you home, yeah? Then Henley can look after you, make you good as new." Merritt spoke unsurely, uncertain of what to say in this situation. Jack just nodded though, running a hand over his face and starting to jog again. Merritt followed, watching the younger magician carefully and helping him when he stumbled.

They were a few streets from the safe house when Jack's steps started to sway. "I'm really dizzy," the sleight slurred. Merritt turned to help just as the young magician went down, falling back and banging the back of his head against the concrete. Skull hit path with a sickening thud and Merritt swore colourfully, kneeling to check the damage. The back of Jack's head was sticky with a warm substance, causing Merritt to swear some more, just for the hell of it.

Very carefully, the mentalist placed his arms under the knees and armpits of the younger magician, lifting him. In his unconscious state, Jack's head lolled back, cradling itself into Merritt's shoulder. Involuntarily, the eldest magician smiled down at the 22 year old sleight. Jack looked much more peaceful in his sleep, losing his furrowed eyebrows and mysterious smirk. He looked endearing in Merritt's arms, smaller than usual and pale in the streetlights.

Merritt made his way to the safe house as quickly as possible without jostling Jack's already injured head. When he arrived at the common, grungy apartment, he knocked with his foot, completing the secret code they had invented. Immediately, the door swung open and revealed the worried faces of Henley and Alma. Daniel and Dylan wandered in from the end of the hallway, also looking concerned.

"He's sick," Merritt announced. The girls ushered him inside before closing and locking the door.

"I knew he shouldn't have been running. He was pale and clammy but shivering at the same time. I _knew _we should have called Dylan," Henley raved, hurrying Merritt to a bed.

"Oh, and there's more," Merritt interrupted her rant, gently placing Jack on the bed simultaneously.

Henley and Alma spotted the large blood stain on Merritt's shirt and the colour drained from their faces. Almost immediately, they began to check him over.

"It's the back of his head," Merritt informed them. The two worried women exchanged a look of dread before turning back to Jack and starting to check him over again.

"What the hell happened?" Dylan demanded pulling Merritt over to the doorway. Daniel followed, concern and curiousity on his usually emotionless face.

"He was all wobbly and dizzy because he was sick. Emptied his guts in a trashcan. Not pretty. Then we were a few streets away and he passed out, whacked his head on the concrete," Merritt told them, starting to back out of the room to search for a new shirt.

Dylan nodded and let him go. Merritt retrieved a shirt and came back downstairs to a new scene. Jack was sitting against a wall, a gauze wrapped around his head and a sleepy look in his eyes. Alma was telling him a story about France in an attempt to keep him awake while Henley tried in vain to get some fluids into him. Jack was pale and his eyes drooped but he stubbornly refused the water Henley offered him.

"I'll make some soup, maybe he'll be a bit more open to it," Henley went to stand but Jack's weak, pale hand shot up and grabbed her wrist, halting her progress.

"No soup," he told her, his eyes widening and gaining a feverish, worried look.

Henley slowly knelt back down, squeezing Jack's hand and stroking his hair gently, like one would an injured animal.

"Okay, Jackie. No soup, okay? Just calm down."

Jack shook his head. "It's- it's too hot," he tried to explain quickly, looking up at Henley with wide, terrified eyes. "It burnt her!"

Henley looked worried now, trying desperately to calm him down. "Who? Who was burnt?"

"My mum," he mumbled, calming slightly now that he had said his piece. "She made me soup when I was sick but he didn't like that. He poured it on her. He burnt her." Everyone exchanged worried looks now. They didn't know what Jack was mumbling on about but it didn't take a genius to guess.

"Y-your dad poured it on her?" Henley asked Jack shakily. His eyes widened again at this and he nodded vigorously.

"No soup, please, no soup." Henley started to calm him down again, horrified at what Jack had witnessed and wondering what else he had gone through.

"Website says he can sleep now," Daniel announced from the doorway, walking in with his phone out.

Henley nodded and, with the help of Dylan and Merritt, moved him back onto the bed. It only took a few minutes to put Jack to sleep and before they knew it, he was in a restless sleep, mumbling things under his breath and furrowing his eyebrows.

Henley and Alma looked close to tears at Jack's revelation.

"I never even entertained the idea, he's so cheerful!" Henley blubbered, dabbing at her eyes.

"Do you think his dad ever did anything to him?" Daniel wondered aloud from the doorway.

"We'll ask him when he wakes up," Dylan said sternly, eying them all. "It's none of our business, got it?" They all nodded reluctantly in reply.

"Now, everyone to their rooms to get some rest. I'm staying here with Jack." The magicians all groaned, looking sufficiently like young children who had been told it was past their bed time.

"Night Jackie," Merritt said, walking over and squeezing his foot. The others followed suit; Henley with a kiss on the forehead and Daniel with a pat on the shoulder.

Alma then ushered them all out of the room, leaving Dylan alone with Jack. Dylan had researched each of the horsemen thoroughly before selecting them for the trial process to join the Eye. He knew to a very detailed extent the horrors that Jack went through in his first home and many foster homes after that. He couldn't blame the sleight for escaping to the streets. He just hoped he didn't escape into himself.

As he watched the brown haired boy in his sleep, troubled and distraught from unseen visions in his head, he swore to himself that he would do everything in his power to make sure the cheerful, selfless boy never went through pain like that again.


End file.
